


heart shaped bruise

by estrella30



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Comeplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Painplay, Romance, Schmoop, the painplay is really slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes Harry likes it when Louis makes it hurt, just a little</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart shaped bruise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inc/gifts).



> my woefully late fic for the summer smut challenge. avery, I'm sorry this is so late and also that you probably wanted really dirty porn and I gave you kind of not so dirty porn and schmoop instead /o\
> 
> I am actually the worst.
> 
> thanks to jessypt for the beta!!

*

Louis looks up into the stadium seats when the music starts, the drum beat pounding steadily in his bones. He can feel the floor of the stage vibrating, the energy of the crowd palpable. He wonders, sometimes, how it would feel to touch it. What it would be like to be able to curl his fingers around the center of it all, to hold something as important as the feeling he’s got blooming in his chest in the palm of his hand. 

The fans are screaming, the sound almost a drone of white noise the way it all blends together. To his right Zayn is singing, and on his left Louis can see Liam dancing, his face lit up with pure joy. Niall’s got his guitar, and he’s playing to the front of the crowd, shaking his head and singing along. The fans love it. Every time Niall moves or smiles or plays a chord they scream louder than the time before. 

Harry’s right by him, too. Louis doesn’t even have to look; by now he can tell where Harry is just by the way the air moves around them both. It’s like a bubble that expands from one of them to the other just far enough to surround the two of them and hold them in the same sphere, never stretching far enough to break.

Louis’ chest is full, his breath pressing tight against his ribs. He takes a moment to stop - just stops where he is and stares out at the crowd, blinking widely at the lights and the thousands of people and the sound of their songs being sung back to them night after night. He feels happy is the thing. Happy and grateful, and so so _so_ very lucky. 

Zayn’s note drops and the song breaks. When Louis looks again Harry’s striding forward. His hair is tied back, face flushed, dark shirt open halfway down his chest. When he passes Louis the tips of his fingers drag against the damp back of Louis’ shirt, then linger before lifting away. 

Louis looks up and smiles and sees Harry’s already watching, his eyes locked on Louis’ face. Harry grins and turns his head, and with the next note, his chest expands, his hand brushing at the bottom of his own shirt and tugging it a little to the side. 

Louis can see it then, the faint purpling of a bruise he’d left with his fingers on the curve of Harry’s waist. His mouth waters when he thinks about the matching ones that are too far down for anyone to see right now. The fading bruise on the inside of Harry’s thigh in the soft shape of Louis’ mouth, high up where the skin is pale and thin. The marking of Louis’ teeth on the back of Harry’s neck. 

Harry drops his eyes and looks away but not before Louis can see him smile. He’s got his fingers resting on his hip, and when Louis watches Harry digs his nails in against his own skin. His breath comes out on a hitch, the last note he hits breaking in the middle before his voice drops out, and Louis smiles to himself, looks away and thinks, _later_.

 

*

It takes longer than Louis would like to get to the hotel. There are all sorts of things they need to grab from the green room after the show, and Zayn and Liam take approximately one billion years to find their bags and the box Zayn keeps all their gaming crap in. Louis is sat on the sofa with Niall while he plays his guitar along to whatever’s on the radio, and Louis is starting to feel tired, his body going heavy with post show letdown, all of the adrenaline he’d been running on going out of him in a rush. 

Harry gets to the room last having rushed off to shower right when the show ended. When he finally gets to the green room his skin is pink and damp, his hair still wet and hanging long down his back and brushed away cleanly from his face. He smells like soap and shampoo and when he perches on the arm of the sofa Louis rests his hand on Harry’s side, sliding his fingers up under the hem of Harry’s t-shirt and slipping over smooth skin. 

Harry hums quietly, then leans back into Louis’ touch. No one’s paying them any attention which is fine. Louis keeps his eyes fixed forward, then calls out to Liam while he curls his fingers against Harry’s waist and digs his nails in just a little harder than comfortable. 

“Payno, are you ever going to be done packing your shit up?” Louis asks. Harry’s making soft sounds next to him, deep from the bottom his throat, and Louis glances at him quickly, sends him a flicker of a smile before digging his fingers in deeper. 

Louis loves doing this - trying to wind Harry up while everyone is around, where anyone can see. He loves it because he thinks it's funny to be getting one over on the lads, but he loves it more because of how much Harry wants it. Harry told him from the beginning one of the things he liked best about when they first started shagging in the X Factor house was the secrecy of it all, the ducking behind peoples backs and hiding what they were doing in plain sight. 

Louis had loved it too - still loves it - and even if their friends know by now how it is between them, they still don’t know every time Louis touches Harry, or what it does to him. They don’t know how many times Louis has slowly driven Harry to the edge. How many times he’d scratched his nails against Harry’s skin, fitting his fingers over day old bruises and pressing down until Harry was nearly shaking under him, his cheeks flushed, body taught and muscles tense as he tried not to nut all over himself in the middle of a meeting, or rehearsals, or dinner at Louis’ mum's house. 

It only fair, Louis thinks, seeing as how much of themselves is always out there in the open for everyone to see. The world gets nearly everything. They get to see Louis and think whatever they want about him, but this. This one thing is theirs; his and Harry’s. it’s not for anyone else. No one else gets to touch it. 

“I’ll be done in a second, Lou,” Liam huffs. “If Zayn hadn’t gone and misplaced everything--”

“I didn’t misplace shit!” Zayn interrupts. He whips his head around and glares in Louis’ direction, as if Louis had anything to do with this at all. “You were here before, Louis. Who was supposed to put all this junk away?”

Louis shakes his head and refuses to be sucked into the middle of what’s sure to be far too long of an argument about basically nothing. He slips his fingers into the back of Harry’s jeans and drags his thumb sharply over the curve of Harry’s arse. Harry jerks so hard he nearly falls off the edge of the sofa. 

“You all right, Haz?” Louis says, blinking up at him innocently. 

Harry bites his lip and looks down. He’s trying to school his face into something menacing Louis is sure, but it just comes across vaguely flustered and breathless. The poor lad.

“‘M’fine,” Harry says. His voice is wrecked, already worn down from the show and now Louis is working him up so slowly in front of the other half of their band he’s barely holding it together. He clears his throat and lifts his eyebrows. “We almost ready to go?”

Paul chooses that second to stick his head into the room, and Louis slips his hand out from the back of Harry’s jeans, grinning up at him innocently. 

“I’ve got one car ready, lads,” Paul announces. “Anyone ready to go?”

“Me,” Harry says instantly. He nearly trips over his own feet when he stands up from the sofa to wobble over to Paul on unsteady legs. “Me and Lou.”

“Hey!” Niall protests. “I’m ready. I want to go too.”

Harry shoots him a withering glare. “No. You can stay here and help these two pack up their shit.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Harry,” Louis says, teasing. Harry’s face is flushed and from across the room Louis can see he’s breathing hard, chest hitching with short, choppy breaths. “We could always wait a bit,” Louis hedges, smile flickering over his lips. “Take the second car maybe.”

Harry stalks back across the room and yanks Louis up from the cushions. Niall goes flying from where he’d been sat next to Louis, then falls in a heap on the floor with his guitar as Louis trips to his feet, stumbling along until he finally manages to right himself, laughing delightedly.

“We’re going,” Harry announces. Zayn and Liam are too busy bickering to pay them much attention, and Niall’s apparently decided to be unfussed and has started to play his guitar from where he’s now sat on the floor. Harry looks from Louis to Paul and back again. “Now. All right?”

Louis grins and shrugs, tossing the hair back from his face. “Whatever you’d like, young Styles.”

*

The bed is soft, and Louis shivers under the blast of the air conditioning in the room. Harry’s spread out under him, his skin tan and gold against the stark white sheets, his hair a messy tangle against the pillows. Louis leans over and kisses him, lets his own hair fall forward over his eyes to brush against Harry’s face. 

Louis hands know the curves and angles of Harry’s body as well as his own, and he presses his fingers against the side of Harry’s neck, to the hollow of his throat and swallows down Harry’s moan, their tongues sliding together slick and wet. Harry’s breathing fast already - Louis can feel the quickened trip of his heart where their chests press together - and Louis drags his fingers down, letting his nail catch over the pad of Harry’s nipple. 

“ _Shit_ , Harry hisses. His back arches, chest pressing so Louis’ nail digs in deeper. Louis scratches the way he knows Harry likes then drops his head to bite at the other side with his teeth. 

“Fuck, Lou.” Harry’s hands fly up and dig into Louis’ hair, holding his head in place. “Do it harder.”

“Yeah?” Louis smiles against Harry’s skin. “How do you ask?”

Harry hooks his leg around the back of Louis’ knee and pulls him in closer. Louis slips a little on the bed and presses Harry deeper into the sheets, and they both laugh a little, a short puff of air between them. 

“Fucking fuck me harder,” Harry says, grinning widely. He pauses a second and then tacks on, “Please.”

Louis shakes his head and laughs quietly. He remembers when Harry was younger, when they were both so raw and open and feeling this thing out between them. Harry would go so still, would be so quiet whenever Louis touched him like this, whenever Louis pushed him just a little more, scratched him just a little too hard. He would always tell Louis that it was good, that he liked it, but he never let on just how much. Louis found out later that it was because Harry wanted it so desperately but didn’t know how to say that. He’d been afraid if he was too demanding Louis wouldn’t want it, or he would say no. 

Things are a lot different now. 

Now Harry’s body goes hot when Louis sinks his teeth into Harry’s skin. He drags them from one nipple to the other, fingers tickling down Harry’s side until he reaches the fan of bruises he left there the other day. Louis looks up and finds Harry watching him with dark eyes. His mouth drops open and his head falls back when Louis presses against the purpling skin and his legs fall open shamelessly. 

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice is so quiet Louis can barely hear him. He’s got his face pressed against the pillow, cheeks a hectic red. He’s shaking, urging Louis down, pushing Louis to touch him more, for him to hurt him, just a little bit. “Please, ‘m’so hard. I just--”

“Can you come just from this?” Louis asks. He sucks down Harry’s chest, the skin thin and hot behind his teeth. He lets his mouth pop off when he’s done then presses his thumb there, holding it until he can feel the pulse of Harry’s heartbeat under his hand. “Or do you need more?”

“I don’t - I don’t know. I can’t--”

“Ssh.” Louis sweeps his hands over Harry’s sides making sure to keep clear from where his dick is curving up, thick and hard against his belly. Louis’ own prick is stiff between his legs. He ruts against Harry’s hip once just to see what Harry will do and Harry curls over and curves his hands over Louis’ shoulders, pulling him in closer. 

“ _Please_ ,” Harry moans, broken and rough.

“Hang on, Haz. I’ll take care of you,” Louis murmurs. 

He licks across Harry’s belly, his skin salty with sweat. Louis grazes his fingers over Harry’s cock, and Harry gasps, his body trembling against the sheets. Louis finds the bruise on Harry’s thigh and drops his mouth to the head of Harry’s cock just as he digs his nails into the bruise and it’s like a switch has been flipped. Harry cries out when Louis sucks him and his hips buck and then he’s coming, thick spurts hitting Louis on the mouth and chin. 

Louis pulls back and milks Harry through it, letting him stripe his own belly and thighs with come. He slides his hand over the mess on Harry’s belly and rubs his fingers together, smearing his slippery fingers down Harry’s prick and over his balls. Harry grunts deep in his throat and Louis bites his lip and licks over the head of Harry’s cock one last time.

“Louis - _fuck_ \- that was--” Harry’s voice is shaky, but when Louis looks up Harry’s smiling, his arm thrown over his eyes. His chest is heaving, and he takes a deep breath before peeking out at Louis from under his arm. “I didn’t mean to come that fast. Shit.” he beams at Louis and chuckles softly. “Hi.”

Louis rests his chin on Harry’s thigh and wiggles his fingers in a wave. “Hello.”

“Cheers, babe,” Harry says slowly. His eyes fall closed, and Louis nudges his cock against Harry’s thigh to make sure Harry’s not planning on falling asleep just yet. “That was amazing.”

“Yes, well.” Louis thrusts again, and Harry laughs as Louis climbs on top of him, spreading his knees to rest on either side of Harry’s hips on the bed. He wanks himself slowly, circling his fingers around the head of his own prick and squeezing. “I don’t think we’re quite done yet, love.”

Harry’s breathing is deep and even, and he keeps his eyes locked with Louis’ when he works his hand down his own chest, fingers skating through the come still smeared on his belly. He touches Louis’ hand with his own, making sure to get Louis fingers wet as well, the both of them working Louis over with short, fast strokes. 

“C’mon,” Harry says as he tilts his hips up. Louis slides down and settles between Harry’s legs. He lets the head of his cock snub against Harry’s hole and Harry curses as he bears down against him, trying to get Louis inside. “Lou, fuck me with it. Please.”

“Hang on, lemme get the stuff--”

Harry’s shaking his head and his fingers are tight on Louis’s wrist to stop him from getting up. “It’s fine, hang on.” He digs around under the pillow and tosses a tiny bottle of lube at Louis’ head. “Just use this.”

Louis pauses. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fucked bare, but they haven’t for a while. They’re usually too rushed and it makes too much of a mess and it’s just...it’s just a bit of a hassle, is all. Harry bitches and moans for ages that he’s all wet from having Louis’ come up his arse, and while Louis definitely likes taking the piss about how Harry’s such a whiner, sometimes it’s just easier to take the minute to find a condom before they get started. 

Tonight, though…

“Are you sure?” Louis has swiped up as much of Harry’s come as he can onto his fingers and added some lube and is already reaching down to press against Harry’s hole. Harry grunts and nods. He shoves down onto Louis’ hand, forcing two fingers deep into him before Louis even realizes what’s happening. “Fuck, Harry, slow down.”

“No,” Harry’s shaking his head petulantly. His eyes are a bright green and his mouth is tipped down at the corners. “You’re taking too long.” He shoves the hair back from his face, and he’s so perfect, so unfairly gorgeous Louis’ heart feels like it’s locked up tight in his chest. “Now, please,” Harry demands with a smile. 

Louis drips more lube on his dick before pushing Harry’s leg up and against his shoulder. He lets the head of his cock nudge up against him, and then Harry’s pulling him closer and Louis is pushing and he bottoms out in one, slow, glide. 

Everything is quiet; the room is still and Harry’s breathing’s gone deep. Louis can feel his pulse in his head and fingers and toes and in the way everything seems to thump along quietly to the beat of Harry’s heart. Harry urges him in deeper, wiggles around under him on the bed so he’s buried as far as he can go, and Louis groans, pulls out just to slam back in, dicking him as good as he can. It's like that was all the urging Harry needed to wrap a hand in Louis’ hair and pulls his mouth in close, sliding their lips together as they move in a desperate, aching rhythm.

Harry’s so fucking tight - thick, slippery heat clenching around his cock. It’s always good when he’s fucking Harry but it’s been ages since he fucked him like this. He hasn’t been able to feel how wet Harry’s been inside, or how hot he feels on the thin skin of Louis’ prick. It’s so much, almost too much, and Louis has to look away, can’t keep his eyes on Harry if he wants this to last for any time at all. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come so soon,” Louis chokes out. Harry kisses him longer, his tongue thick and wet, teeth clattering together. He reaches down and curls his fingers around himself, and when he breaks away his eyes are squeezed shut and his lip is bitten nearly raw. 

Sometimes Louis can’t explain how he feels this much for Harry. It fills him up; pushes out the breath from his chest and makes everything inside him race, every inch of his skin and bones gone electric with the feeling of Harry’s skin against his.

“‘M’gonna come again,” Harry whines, breaking into the silence. His mouth is dropped open, breath sweet against Louis’ cheek. “Please, Lou, you have to--”

Louis grabs Harry’s shoulder and digs his fingers in, holding Harry still while he drives his cock in as deep as he can go. He feels it when his orgasm hits him, sudden and sharp like the crack of a whip, and then he’s filling Harry up, coming inside him thick and hot. Louis doesn’t stop, just keeps fucking him over and over even as his dick starts to go soft. Everything is sticky and wet, their bodies sliding together with sweat and come coating Harry’s arse and the backs of his thighs when Louis finally pulls out. 

Harry’s stripping his own cock quickly, and Louis slides two fingers inside him, fingering him and licking the curve of Harry’s hip. He kisses one of the bruises that he’d left before and that’s when Harry comes, his body clenching around Louis’ fingers in his arse and his teeth set in Harry’s skin. 

Louis takes a second to get his breath back, and then he groans weakly and rolls off onto his side of the bed. He blinks up at the ceiling and breathes deeply as he feels Harry’s hand flopping around on the mattress next to him, finally settling when it lands on Louis’ chest. Harry slides their fingers together, Louis' small hand curling up under Harry’s larger one, and squeezes. Louis squeezes back and tries not to blurt out every ridiculously soppy thing that’s trying to burst it’s way out of his chest. 

“Gross, Lou,” Harry says instead. Louis’ eye’s are closed but he can see the pout on Harry’s face without even looking. “I’m all gross.”

Louis sighs. “I’ll get up and get you some tissues in a second, princess,” he says. He’s pretending to be put out by the idea of getting up but they both know Louis will cave eventually. He wonders when he stopped being bothered by that fact. 

Harry shrugs and cuddles in closer though, tucking his head up under Louis’ chin. “Eh,” he says quietly. “No rush. I’m sure I’ll live.”

Louis has no idea how long they lie there, only that it’s long enough for the air to click on and off a few times and for Louis’ eyes to drift shut. Louis starts to shiver when he gets cold, and Harry manages to get the sheets out from under them and cover them up. They’re both sticky and disgusting and desperately in need of a shower, but Harry kisses Louis’ hair and Louis touches his mouth to Harry’s chest, his fingers flitting softly over the newest bruise, and he figures they’ve got time to shower in the morning. 

It’s so dark outside the windows Louis can’t see a thing past the curtains, and he barely knows what city they’re in let alone the time. They’ve got a travel day tomorrow and Harry’s bound to be cranky and sore when he wakes up after falling asleep like this. They’ll both be running late because neither of them will want to get out of bed first to shower for bus call and then Harry will make Louis’ tea because he’ll be trying to do a nice thing, but it will be too hot to drink. Louis will drink it anyway and burn his mouth, and then he’ll complain about it the entire ride until Harry quiets him with kisses in one of their bunks, his lips soft and soothing over the burn. 

Louis doesn’t worry about any of that now though. The lights are dim and the sheets are cozy and Harry’s next to him lying in bed. His body is warm and his hands are holding Louis close and it’s all Louis needs for now. 

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: harry/anyone, a bit of painplay. while they’re kissing, the other person drags their nails down harry’s sides and pinches at his nipples and presses at bruises they left earlier so harry is nearly shaking and soaked his boxers through with precome by the time they get around to anything else. and harry’s so worked up that he comes way too fast once they finally jerk him off/suck him off/fuck him.


End file.
